Chapter Six: The Dreamscape

Palos Mind and Psychoanalysis Research Institute, Third Laboratory, Department of Mental Sciences.

The man felt as if he were dreaming.

In the dream, his name was Mariko, a Level 3 engineer employed by "Kantine Manufacturing." He was a divorced middle-aged man with a daughter who had just entered middle school.

A wretched marriage, day after day of overtime, a body slowly deteriorating, sudden unemployment, and a mountain of repayment deadlines nearing critical warning.

What a miserable life, the man thought.

Although he didn't have much money, he rented cheap housing in the Deep Moss District, drove a used car in which someone had once died, and his job was transporting sugar for the Eagle-Beak Gang. It was a type of candy laced with chemical additives; recently, it had become very popular among the junkies.

But he had a beautiful girlfriend, Geli. Geli loved him just as much as he loved her.

It was truly unbelievable that such a beautiful girl would set her sights on him. Fortunately, this wasn't his imagination, but a genuine fact.

The man suddenly missed Geli.

He missed her long hair—a very interesting implant. Through a cluster of internally cultivated pigment cells, she could change her hair color at will. He loved the way she looked with her long blonde hair. How beautiful it was, like the stars in the sky.

Last week, after they had a huge scene in the kitchen, Geli, while panting, had pressed her lips to his ear and whispered that she planned to announce their relationship at her birthday party tomorrow and introduce him to her friends. The man remembered how happy he had been then.

That was it—the birthday party.

But why, when he arrived at the party, did Geli look at him with such terror? Was the gift he prepared not good enough? Had he disappointed her?

And... damn it.

Who was that man with his arms around Geli? Bastard! Who gave you permission to touch my girl!

And those people.

"You, you..."

"Help! He’s holding Berhank’s head!"

"Where is the police?! Notify the Security Bureau immediately!"

"Damn it! Where are the sentry guns?! Why aren't they firing!"

So noisy... and what were they saying? Why couldn't he understand them?

Ah, right.

Almost forgot, he was dreaming.

The man wore a blissful smile.

Fortunately, all of this was fake.

He should prepare another gift. He couldn't ruin Geli’s birthday party, the one he loved most.

So, it was time to wake up.

Time to go to the birthday party.

...

"The target's mental index has dropped to the critical threshold. It can be classified as 'cyberpsychosis' in the medical sense."

Staring at the image on the screen, a researcher in a white coat raised his voice: "Prepare to inject the targeted enzyme—"

Another researcher hurriedly took a test tube from the cooler and loaded the syringe, simultaneously signaling a colleague to turn on the mental adjustment device.

The synthetic targeted enzymes in their hands acted on the neural circuits and needed to be injected directly into the head. Therefore, they first had to remove the mental adjustment device—that helmet-like thing—worn by the target.

There were five researchers in total. Vidani and the male researcher were staring at the screen. The other three crowded around, preparing to inject the targeted enzyme.

"Why hasn't this guy moved?" someone asked, puzzled.

According to past experience, inserting a memory module taken from a cyberpsycho and using the mental adjustment device to assist often caused the subject to fall into extreme hysteria, leading to multiple complications, including split personality.

That was the reason they had gathered around—to help hold down the experimental subject who would usually be thrashing about.

But this time, they noticed something.

Aside from the brief roar at the very beginning, the subject had remained quiet for the time that followed, his body hardly moving at all.

"Hey, Connie, go check the physiological data. I’m worried..."

"Relax, I checked just a moment ago. Everything is perfectly fine—at least, the body is."

Hearing this, another person interrupted with a laugh: "Though, who knows what's going on in his brain? Maybe he's a rare specimen? If so, we might finally get some results this time."

"Watch your language. Don't make us sound like those mad scientists in the movies," the researcher holding the syringe said with dissatisfaction. "This is a legitimate volunteer contract. We are a formal medical corporation, not some underground clinic where black-market doctors harvest organs."

As they spoke, the researcher who hadn't said anything yet finally removed the mental adjustment device and sighed:

"Finally got it off. These old pieces of junk are so hard to use. Once this project actually yields results, we must buy a newer model... Tsk, the funding for edge research institutes like ours is just too low."

"By the way, which memory module did we use this time?"

"A street member addicted to virtual avatar dolls. You know, that stuff that generates virtual dolls based on provided information to let people have a good time. The monthly subscription services for the mainstream ones on the market are actually quite expensive."

"I heard that when the Security Bureau took him down, a dozen people were already dead. The hotel was covered in blood."

"Hmm, let me see where to inject..."

The researcher's voice suddenly stopped.

A hand with a cold touch had, at some point, grabbed his forearm.

For a moment, the researcher was stunned.

A split second earlier, the high-strength polyamide restraints had begun to tighten. The next, Mariko, who had been lying on the platform, opened his eyes, forcibly tore the restraints apart with his hands, and sat bolt upright.

Before anyone could react, Mariko grabbed the researcher's forearm with one hand.

To adapt to his position as a Level 3 engineer, Mariko’s hands had both been replaced with prosthetics—the "Daedalus Hand" produced by the megacorporation [Southern Frontier Heavy Industries], an engineering prosthetic designed for debugging heavy industrial equipment.

The prosthetic, which should have been locked, was now twitching with intent.

Faced with strength capable of snapping a bundle of steel bars, the researcher's arm could not move an inch. The syringe in his hand slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor.

Hearing the sound, Mariko slowly turned his head, staring hollowly at the researcher.

Then, on his face...

The previously blissful smile faded bit by bit, replaced by rising anger.

"Are you all..."

"Trying to stop me from attending the birthday party?"

...

A little earlier.

Outside the restroom.

Watching the contestant he had bet on have his head blown apart by a Dum-Dum round, with fluids of various colors bursting out with a wet splat, the burly man clicked his tongue and closed the live stream of the real-life battle royale.

Another thousand credits wasted.

Perhaps the simulation realism of the stream had been set too high, leaving lingering sensory memories. Even though he had already logged out, the burly man still felt he could smell the scent of blood.

"Damn it, shouldn't have set the realism that high..."

The burly man shook his head, trying to recover quickly.

But soon, he realized something.

Wait, the smell of blood appearing here...

—That little bastard, is he trying to commit suicide?!

The burly man laughed in cold fury.

True, this was just an overlooked edge research institute; even Kenge, the current director of the institute, had reportedly ended up here after losing an internal power struggle.

But regardless, this was still a subordinate research institute of [Emerald Pharmaceuticals]. As long as the head wasn't the only thing left, they could pull anyone back from the brink!

But in this situation, he wouldn't be able to escape a severe dereliction-of-duty warning.

"You little bastard, you've successfully angered me!"

The burly man grabbed his stun gun and stormed into the restroom.

He rudely kicked open the first stall, and finding it empty, immediately opened the next.

The first, the second, the third...

Soon, the burly man reached the last stall.

Seeing the "Occupied" indicator, he sneered. His right hand, exposing a black metal skeleton, gripped the handle and suddenly exerted force. Accompanied by a teeth-grinding sound of twisting metal, the stall door warped and deformed at a visible rate.

Then, with a loud bang, the entire door was ripped right off its hinges!

"Give me—"

The stall was empty.

The moment he saw the inside, the burly man froze.

Almost at the same time, from behind the severely deformed stall door, Song Shi sprang up from his position pressed against the inside of the door, and charged ferociously toward the still-stunned burly man!